37

Retreat and Recovery

Chilldon did not attack again. He had been too badly wounded, and had he tried again, he likely would have collapsed. He staggered back to his Icerunner, clutching his side, and flew back to Skytomb, swerving as he did. One of the Psychic Lunattacks there helped him to the medical room. He would live, but only after a long recovery. But he would remember. Oh yes. He would remember.

During the fighting, Mumm-Ra had lost track of the boy, and now he was not even his biggest concern at the moment. The evil priest could no longer fight, as he had to use all his concentration to keep up his magic and his strength. The ancient mage had wondered why he was not able to fight while he maintained his monsters of evil but now he realized it. He realized why he was feeling his power drain, and his strength ebb. He was too far away form his pyramid, the very source of his energy.

Even as he tried to summon anther burst of energy, he saw a group of villagers taking down a gigantic rat that had been toppling the humans with its tail. he caught form the corner of his unnatural eyes, a warrior downed by a four foot creature made of whirling razor blades, and he saw three others corral it with iron farming implements.

He was losing this battle. Kasana-Kai, the courageous woman who had died fighting Mumm-Ra, made only one mistake: where she chose to fight. Her courage, strategy, and fighting skills were surpassing. But she had chosen the wrong battlefield: Mumm-Ra's own home, where his strength was at its peak. Here, so far from the onyx pyramid from which he drew his power, he was weak. And slowly, the many villagers and warriors were defeating him and his monsters.

Finally, the demon priest's strength gave out. Even in midair, his body simply collapsed, and went limp. Humans, and Nai, Bruters and reptiles, cried out in surprise and shock as beasts that they were fighting simply disappeared. Some cried out in pain as the resistance of the beasts against their weapons was suddenly gone, and a fellow warrior that had been on the other side of the monster accidentally cut or struck them.

Summoning what power he had left, Mumm-Ra crept aboard Skytomb. "Retreat," he commanded hoarsely to those present. The three that had been left behind to man Skytomb, and who had been taking potshots at buildings and fighters, simply gaped at him. Never before had they seen their lord bested, and certainly not by a human child and his people.

But finally, a young Icy Lunattack with rare fiery red hair, shook herself out of her shock and hit the radio's control. Directly linking to Fintii's own communicator, the young Lunattack cried, "Fintii! Mumm-Ra gives the order to retreat!"

After a few screeches of indignation, Fintii finally ordered her minions: "Lunattacks! Back to Skytomb!!" One by one, they disengaged from their fights and ran for their vehicles. When all were aboard, they took off.

***

Mumm-Ra had realized something, as he flew back to his pyramid in the forgotten desert. He know knew why he had not destroyed Saber when he had the chance. He knew why he had never struck down the ThunderCats as they slept. He was a demon, yes; an evil priest of black magic, but he was a warrior. And no matter how long they have lived, what species they were, warriors needed battles to fight. He'd had ample oppurtunities to kill his many adversaries spanning the centuries, and had not. Not out of a sense of fairness, he didn't fight fair. He wanted a fight, a battle that while not fair perhaps, was up front and honorable. He had tried the underhanded way and failed. It was not the way of a warrior.

And so, feeling the pain of the battle, he slipped back into his sarcophagus to rest. To rest so he could fight nother day.

***

Saber's once-quiet village now looked like the battlefield it had become. Those who had been wounded in battle lay on the ground, some never to get up again. homes had been set afire by Skytomb's weaponry, some simply had been blasted, and sported large holes in its walls. Windows had been broken, and the stage itself had a large crack in it. From the protective circle of his mother's arms, Saber looked at all of this and felt an unbearable guilt and sorrow. His people, and his friends had been hurt and killed because of him. Because in his selfishness, he had left the Valley, and brought this on his people.

Saber had not thought anything could tear him away from his mother, but there was something. He heard a cry of anguish from someone he knew, and looked behind him. Iyen was kneeling by a still form on the ground, the one that had been downed by Mumm-Ra's razor blade creature. "I-I'll be right back..." Saber whispered to his mother, and pulled away from her, she was reluctant to let him go, but finally did, and Saber went to the young warrior.

He bit his lip as his suspicious was confirmed: the man on the ground was Drett, Iyen's father, and the best warrior in the village. He lay completely still on the ground, face down, bleeding from his side and midsection. Saber did not have to be a healer to see that the warrior was not breathing.

Drett had often treated Saber badly, chasing him away form the warriors' training arena, or shoving him aside when the boy got in his way if he was in a particularly bad mood. Now his mind flashed on a day not too long before he left. He remembered Drett telling him that he could be a bastard sometimes, but he did respect courage, no matter whose it was. He also knelt next to Iyen, who did not look up. "I'm sorry," Saber whispered.

Iyen looked up from where he had his face buried in his arms, tears in his eyes, and Saber expected the cadet to punch him. It was his fault Drett was dead, why shouldn't he? But he did nothing, only nodded, and stood up. Head down, he walked silently away, thinking already of funeral arrangements. When one of Saber's people died, he was not buried, but cremated, with full ceremony. Iyen would have to help his mother with the arrangements, which for a warrior were more complex than a ceremony for others. Iyen was the man of the house now, with his mother being a scholar, not a warrior. Iyen would be in charge.

Crying himself, Saber got up and ran from the body, not able to look at it any longer. He buried his face in his mother's clothing and did not look up again. He had been strong for too long, and now was the time to be a child. He didn't feel it when the healer's apprentice dressed the worst of his wounds so he would not bleed to death. He did not hear her move on to the next. He didn't feel the pain from his own injuries, or notice when his father coaxed him to drink the painkiller he had not had a chance to drink before. He just hid.

Saber was taken home, and put to bed. The next day, the healer himself came to check on him, once the severely wounded had been tended. He looked as tired and haggard as the warriors themselves, and Saber did not think that he had had any sleep. He looked up at the healer that he had been so angry with at one point for ratting on him when he first strayed beyond the Western Boarder, and felt that anger again. But it was at himself. He looked away.

"How are you feeling, young Saber?" the healer asked, his deep voice low and gentle. The boy did not answer as the medical kit was opened. "I am going to check your injuries, and finish tending them. It will hurt, so brace yourself." When Saber only nodded his consent, the healer brought out a lot of fresh bandages, some salve, and some stitches.

The skilled healer worked quickly, cleaning the wounds, dressing those not needing stitches. Many of the apprentice's hasty stitches had come undone. He sewed together the boy's skin where it was badly slashed, and bandaged that too. Saber endured the whole thing with only an outcry here and there.

He was given more painkiller, and again fell asleep, too exhausted to remain conscious.

Several days passed, during which Saber rested, and recovered. Fegreth also had begun to recover, although his cracked pelvis would take a long time to heal. Drii also had to heal, from his unarguably terrifying experience at the hands of Psychren.

On the fifth day, Drii tentatively opened Saber's door. Saber looked at him from eyes that looked tired and hurt. "Hey..." he said to the child. He sat up and looked at Drii. He had spent the days looking around his room and taking comfort in its warm security.

"Hi, Saber..." Drii carefully climbed up onto his brother's bed, and sat next to him. Saber sat up slowly. "Saber? The elders say that we have to go in front of the council. All of us..."

Saber frowned, then sighed. "I thought so," he said, nodding his head. "I...a lot of people got hurt, Drii...like you. And it's my fault. They....the council probably will banish me...maybe all of us. I'm a child, th-they won't have me executed..." He hoped fervently that those words were true, but even Drii could tell that he was not certain.

"I won't let them!" the child said with fierce determination. "I won't let them kill you!" He bit his lip and threw his arms around his older brother. "I missed you...for a long time. You-you said you'd be back soon, and when you didn't, everyone thought you died, but I knew you didn't, and they can't kill you!"

"Hey," Saber said. His worried voice softened, and he embraced his brother. "It's okay, Drii...I don't think they will. I meant to come back." He sighed. "It's a long story, but I promise I'll tell you the whole thing later, okay?"

Drii only nodded, and held his brother tight. He was crying.

"Hey," Saber said. He got off the bed, clenching his teeth against an outcry, and went to his pack. It had been simply thrown into his room when he was brought in, half conscious, and had stayed unopened since then. He undid the rawhide and searched, throwing a few things out onto the floor. Finally he smiled and brought out the green blanket, Drii's hintrin. "I'm here and alive," he said to the little boy. "So I guess it worked."

Drii's eyes got wide, and he took the blanket, holding it to his face. "My hintriin! You brought it back!"

"Of course. I told you I would." Saber tried to take a tone of playful smugness, but it just sounded tired. "I'll show you all my drawings when I tell you the story."

"Okay!" His own injuries healed enough to be merely an inconvenience, Drii threw his arms around Saber, making him yelp in pain. His wounds were not so healed. "I'm glad you're back." This time it was barely a whisper.

"Yeah..." Saber said. "Me too."

Drii was not his only visitor, although the most frequent one.

Leyati had come and visited Saber several times in those days, as he and his army had camped out just outside the Berbil Village. "Strange folk," he'd said once to Saber. "Don't think they quite belong anywhere." And that was a very accurate statement.

The last time he came in, Saber was finally putting everything away. He had written many pages in his journal the night before, telling of everything that had happened since his last entry; he went into detail, describing the sights, the sounds, the feelings. He looked up and grinned as the old fisherman entered.. It had been two weeks now, and he was not in pain anymore, and nearly healed. "Hey, Leyati..." he sighed. "I never got to tell you....thanks. You-you saved my life I think. And the whole village too. They wanted to kill everyone, destroy the whole village."

Leyati nodded and ruffled the boy's long hair. "Well, young fella, I couldn't just leave y' here. Not when those Lunattacks and their lord were after y'. And y' know, your little talk with me just made me realize that even old timers like me can learn from a child." he embraced the boy. "But now that we've all had time to heal our wounds, and recover, it's time we moved on." Saber pulled back to look at him, shocked. "It's time for us t' go home, Saber."

Trying to hold back his tears, Saber nodded. "I-I understand. Will I ever see you again?"

"Well I hope so, son," the old Nai said. "Y' know where we are now." He laughed gently. "Convince y're folks to come with y' and visit." Saber nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "Just don't forget me in the meanwhile."

Saber looked to his wall, where his father had made a little rack to display the dagger Leyati had given him, and he shook his head. "No. I don't think I'll forget you."

Leyati smiled. "Good luck, Saber." Saber watched him go, and finally let himself cry.

Part 38: Council

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